


out of focus, eye to eye

by artificialromance



Category: Marvel, Runaways (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 12:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14165301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialromance/pseuds/artificialromance
Summary: Fuck. She has to look like even more of a mess than she thinks. She wants to roll down the cliff, or bury herself under the leaves, or just dematerialize completely. She wants him to go away, before she makes things worse, for her and between them.But he sits down next to her anyway.Not too close, though. At least he knows that much.-just a sweet little thing I finished months ago but never posted lol





	out of focus, eye to eye

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from a taylor swift song sorry

_ No fair.  _

The sentiment feels so childish, but it’s true. The heat of the tears running down her face only builds her frustration. She feels hopeless and betrayed, and she can’t blame society this time. But new pet slash best friend was just ripped away from her, and she just ran away from home (whatever “home” even means anymore).  _ So yeah _ , she decides. It’s okay to feel like a scared little kid. Anyone would feel that way in her situation. The rest of them must be, too.

Gert lets her shoulders relax a little and and hugs a knee to her chest. They were able to hike up a large hill to hide out on for the time being. Before here is a generous slice of her city, Los Angeles. Being up there should make her feel mighty, but it’s more lonely than anything else. She can’t tell if seeing the tiny buildings and microscopic pedestrians down below make her feel big from so high, or tiny, because she knows she’s no different from the rest of them. Probably even shorter than most of them, actually. 

Her musings are interrupted by the sound of leaves crunching behind her. Footsteps, getting louder and closer. 

“Molly, go back to sleep. You have to rest.” 

“It’s just me.” Her heart leaps at the sound of Chase’s voice. She quickly wipes the tears off her cheeks, messily,  _ God,  _ why is she such a mess. Why does she care either way? She sniffles (actually sniffles, in real life and everything) and turns around to look at him. 

As soon as their eyes meet, she sees his face break into worry.  _ Fuck _ . She has to look like even more of a mess than she thinks. She wants to roll down the cliff, or bury herself under the leaves, or just dematerialize completely. She wants him to go away, before she makes things worse, for her and between them. 

But he sits down next to her anyway. 

Not too close, though. At least he knows that much. 

They sit together in silence for a few minutes. It seems he also knows not to stare at her, but he doesn’t know how to sit still. He’s picking leaves off the ground and playing with them between his fingers. He looks nervous. She’s literally scaring him away. Him, “just him,” “strapping lacrosse player,” Atlas Academy legend Chase Stein. Absolutely priceless. 

Unless she remembers how badly she wants to keep him as close to her as possible. 

Chase apparently gets bored of the leaves, because he says something, still looking down. “What are you thinking about?”

She draws her knee in even closer, so far she starts to feel the stretch in her muscles. She only makes out, “Look at the city.” He lifts his head and she watches his gaze, his eyes focusing and exploring as hers were. 

She clears her throat to get some more words out. “Does it make you feel big or small?”

He pauses before turning to look at her. Her face is flushed from the panicking and the crying, her makeup broken down for sure, her hair wet with tears, her glasses smudged up. She thinks about how she must look like a completely different girl from the one he was with at the dance just the other night. She wants to be okay with the fact that he might see her as two different girls like that. She tells herself she is, but she knows she isn’t. 

“Both.” He squints. “Big, because all of this could end with the flip of a switch and I’m—we’re the only ones who know. But small, because we’re just like them, just as capable as any of them to do anything about it.” 

“Me too.” It’s barely a whisper, but it passes her lips and he’s close enough to hear it. She doesn’t sense the time go by, or the wind hitting her skin. She’s trapped in a moment like a snow globe, the world whirring all around her stillness. She’s so out of it that she doesn’t even notice him saying his name at first. 

“Gert?”

She snaps back to reality “Yes? What? Sorry,” she blurts out. 

“I just asked if you were okay.”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, no, but I will be, so no worries,” she tells him. “You can go back to whatever you were doing before. Thanks for checking on me, but you don’t have to do this right now.”

“Oh.”  _ Damn it.  _ “I mean, if you’re sure.” He hesitates before pushing into his palms to get up. 

“Wait,” she hears her own voice say. “You don’t have to leave either. You can stay...if hat’s what you want.”  _ Jesus, how could a person be so awkward _ . A little smile flashes by on his face so quickly that she can’t tell if she imagined it or not. 

“I think I’d like that. Thank you,” he says, settling down again. 

The silence lasts a little while. It’s pain and comfort at the same time, sitting so close to each other, without anything happening. Just being. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Really. And I know you probably don’t want my pity but that isn’t what this is. You don’t deserve any of this and I just...I feel so awful, with you and for you.”

She knows he’s expecting a quip from her about how the dumb jock has a heart or something. She expects to hear herself drop a line without even thinking about it. But to her surprise, she just feels a new flood of tears well up behind her eyes. Their faces are close enough for him to see them build up like glass in front of her eyes and as her vision distorts again, the concern on his face still translates. 

“Oh, Gert,” he says to her, and she melts a little bit hearing her name in his voice like that; sweet and sad and just precious. His hand darts to grab and hold hers, and it should startle her but somehow it feels so natural. 

She doesn’t want to keep crying, but she has to wait the tears out. 

“It’s fine. I promise. I know why she had to go.”

“She’ll be okay,” he said, slowly rubbing his thumb across her hand. “She’s strong. Like you.”

That’s what gets Gert to start laughing. Chase looks confused. “Are you…”

“I’m not strong,” she said. “I’m tough. You should know there’s a difference.”

“Well, I have to disagree,” he says, letting himself smile a little. “With you not being strong, I mean. You are.”

“How terribly kind of you,” she replies in her masterful deadpan delivery, and this time she knows she didn’t imagine the stupid grin his face takes. 

“Anytime.” She’s smiling now, too. She doesn’t want to be. 

He lifts his arm and lets his hand graze her shoulder, like a wordless request for permission. He lets his arm drape over her shoulder, and when she relaxes into him he pulls her closer. She closes her eyes and turns her head in, cheek against his chest, and he rests his head on top of hers. 

She hates that her homesickness stops like this, when she feels his heartbeat and the most needed and most scary sense of ease floods her veins. Her tears wet his shirt.  _ How embarrassing _ . 

“I’ve got you,” he says, in such a quiet whisper it almost sounds like a secret, their secret. And there are too many secrets in her life lately that the more she grows used to them, the more she hates every single one. 

But this one, she thinks, might be different. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading!! :')


End file.
